


The Science of Silence

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Series: X Years Later [22]
Category: Newcastle (2008)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:05:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Approximately nine and a half years later.</p><p>Title from a song by Richard Ashcroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Science of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters or the plot of the original movie belong to me. I am not making money off my work, which is written for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. Writing should be enjoyed, not judged.
> 
> Here we go - just as promised! I really thought I was going to write out a different bit first - but no, this one just happened (please excuse my corny attempts at humour in the beginning of this one). Infinitely grateful to the lads for finally letting me in a bit more on their lives, hopefully I will have the time to write out everything that's queueing up in my mind. And an even bigger *Thank You* (so much!!) to all my readers - you know I would not be doing this if not for your support.
> 
> I also want to encourage you all to check out this absolutely stunning and gorgeously made video about our lads on youtube:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G861YFYudwA
> 
> That song is truly "their" song in my mind, it fits them perfectly, so please give that person some love - maybe s/he will make more! 
> 
> I highly recommend everyone to watch this movie.

***

 

Andy is a human cat.

 

It doesn’t take Fergus to even cross the threshold of their apartment, for those imaginary cat-ears to turn swiftly towards the front door because one really can tell a lot by the way somebody walks. And whether Andy realises it or not, by the time the key turns in its receptacle, he is prepared to spring from wherever he is situated, all ready and with a vague premonition of what those sounds will bring.

Just as soon as Fergus becomes visible in the hall, Andy’s imaginary whiskers take to work. Twitch, twitch, twitch – the whiskers scan his face, his body, his movements, his affect – and he doesn’t do it just for the hell of it, obviously – he does it to adjust his own actions. And if you ask him about it, Andy will be happy to tell you he can predict the way the whole night will go just by the way Fergus wears his tie.

Consider this for a second. A loosened tie is a very good sign, innit? Wrong! Andy knows by now that the only time Fergus would loosen his tie in that careless manner is if he is pretty damned pissed. He’ll yank on it in a fit of rage but he wouldn’t have the patience to actually take it off. On the other hand, if he had a nice leisurely day, he’ll take it off and fold it carefully into the pocket of his coat. Now, if the tie is slightly off – or even slung over the shoulder together with his suiting coat – well, that’s an all-time favourite for Andy because it means that Fergus left his working thoughts far behind and now has a completely different thing on his mind. On these nights Andy usually doesn’t even get to say “hello” because Fergus pretty much doesn’t let him.

 

 

But when the tie is perfectly straight like it is today, Fergus’ mood is much more difficult to pinpoint. It requires additional observation.

“Hey” – Andy greets him cautiously.

“Hey” – Fergus responds. He drops his briefcase just by the shoe rack. He doesn’t throw it but he doesn’t set it nicely, either. 

Andy observes him take off his shoes.

His face is pale and unreadable and Andy’s whiskers go into overdrive.

He chooses a tactic that is tried and true.

“How was it?” – He steps up to him carefully, opening his hands.

“Fine” – Fergus responds without emotion but approaches him just as gently, lightly touching his biceps as he kisses him on the cheek, smiles meekly, and squeezes by. 

 

By the time Fergus comes out of the washroom, Andy is waiting for him in the kitchen. Fergus still has his suiting jacket on.

They eat together in silence for a few minutes until Fergus jerks his head up as if burnt:

“And you…? You okay?”

“Yeah?” – Andy looks at him curiously while the whiskers continue their work.

Fergus doesn’t look particularly tired, but his eyes are lackluster and vacant and they run back and forth as though he is reading a text in the distance. He dumps a load of salt into his salad and then actually finishes it. And when he also drinks all of the water in his glass, Andy’s whiskers report that job’s done and sign out to lunch. Andy now knows all that he needs to know.

“You… wanna tell me about it?”

It’s an offer, not a command, gentle and understated, as open to an acceptance as it is to a silent refusal. And Andy will not be offended either way.

“Hm?”

Fergus looks at him in a muted surprise, dark brown eyes lightening up a little, but his gaze immediately courses right through him again, becoming heavy and dull.

But he still hasn’t even touched his coffee, so Andy doesn’t get up off the taburette. He makes no motion to clear off the table either, even though it’s now crowded with dirty dishes.

 

The sun continues its descent outside their kitchen window and Fergus stares right through its pinkish afterglow. By the looks of it, he doesn’t see anything. 

Andy sits with his back to the window, so he doesn’t even see the sunset at all. The only thing in front of him is the fridge and the dimmed hallway. Still, he doesn’t move. He needs to talk to Fergus about switching internet providers and also their plans for tomorrow night, but he doesn’t even open his mouth. Just sits with him quietly.

 

Finally, Fergus jolts out of it, blows on his coffee, takes a sip and then makes a face because, of course, the coffee has gone cold already. But that’s Andy’s cue to go on.

“So, d’you wanna tell me about it?”

“Hm?” – Fergus looks at him again, but this time actually *looks* at him, then blinks slowly and does a small shrug. He looks vulnerable and younger than usual. 

“It’s nothing” – Fergus begins, - “It’s just stuff at work.”

“Yeah?” – Andy says it quietly and without a push. Again, it’s an offer – take it or leave it. 

Fergus decides:

“It’s this video we shot in New Zealand. The advertisement for Tristar Cruises – remember?”

Andy nods, because of course he remembers. Fergus had to stay on New Zealand coast for two nights - Friday and Saturday - some three months ago – which means that for two nights the bed felt too big - so yes, of course Andy remembers.

Fergus goes on:

“I was there when they were shooting. I directed it. The video, I mean. I even tweaked it myself, the final version, but…” – He waives his hand. 

Andy waits.

Fergus sighs:

“Something’s not right. I don’t understand what it is. I viewed the clip like a hundred times but something just doesn’t fit. The scenery is perfect, the breaks are at correct intervals, camera work pace is appropriate, but something is just not right!”

He looks at Andy and there’s pain in his eyes. He takes the projects he directs himself very personally. 

Andy doesn’t know his trade. With respect to this issue, he knows only one course of action. 

“Well… do you want me to take a look at it?” – He offers softly.

“What?” – Fergus’ gaze intensifies as he scans Andy’s face.

“The video. Do you want me to look at it? Don’t you have it with you?”

Fergus still stares at him for a few seconds but then jolts up a little and smiles a weak, but hopeful smile. He gets up and pulls a USB out of his coat pocket. He gives it to Andy:

“Yeah, it’s on here. You’ll see it. I’m going to go change. Yeah, tell me what you think.” 

He runs his hand over Andy’s neck and back absentmindedly but he smiles before he disappears into their bedroom. And Andy’s quite alright with that.

He plugs the USB into his laptop and sits down on the sofa. Just as Fergus had told him, he finds the video right away, so he starts it up instantly.

The scenery is absolutely stunning and the video is shot tastefully, as is every advertisement clip which Fergus directs himself. The camera shots are precise and thoughtful, but sublime, delicate and almost wistful, more than certain to make anyone watching the advertisement to immediately yearn for the beauty and tranquility of the New Zealand beach. The video is short, so Andy restarts it and watches it again. Then again. And as the video is silent, he puts a quiet slow melody to play on the background. Pretty soon he isn’t even looking for that thing that is bothering Fergus so much, he is just imagining himself and his lover in New Zealand, golden sun kissing their skin and wind playing in their hair…

But Fergus soon returns and flops on the couch next to him, bringing Andy back to reality so unexpectedly that he almost drops his laptop, pausing the video. 

Fergus smiles:

“How was it?”

Seeing him smile like that, Andy feels his own lips stretch and he doesn’t even exaggerate as he answers:

“It’s great!”

“We were very lucky we got good weather!”

He looks so fucking dashing smiling like that with that plain black shirt and black jeans on that Andy can’t help but stare at him and repeat:

“Yeah, it’s great…”

“And to think that once this resort spot was just a small fishing village!”

“It was?” – Andy asks mechanically.

“Well, yeah” – Fergus frowns a little, - “We mentioned that in the ad because there are still a few relics of those times that…” – He stops, looking at Andy, - “Wait, did you not hear the commentary?”

“Sorry?”

“The voiceover on the ad?”

“No?”- Andy frowns too and looks back at the video, turns off the background melody, then presses the sound button off and on and again pauses and unpauses the video, - “Should it have a voiceover? I just thought it was silent, so I just…”

“Doesn’t it…?” – Fergus stares at the video again and together, they fiddle with it some more. But the voiceover doesn’t play, so Fergus looks at Andy:

“Huh, I must have a wrong draft saved on here. It doesn’t matter, ‘cause the final is on my computer at work, but… can I actually see this for a second?”

Andy gives him the laptop and Fergus runs the silent video again. Then again. Then, he turns to Andy:

“What was that playing before?”

“Oh that? I just put a song on from my iTunes. ‘Cause I thought it might…”

Fergus interrupts:

“Play it again.”

Andy obeys him immediately, reaching over Fergus’ hands and restarting the song. Fergus plays the video again. He stares at the screen and Andy stares at him. Suddenly, Fergus’ brows go up, his eyes widen, and he even bites the back of his finger which he then has just by his chin:

“That’s it, Andy! This is just it!”

“S – sorry?” 

Andy looks at him, just as mesmerised at the change in his face as Fergus is by whatever he just discovered.

“This is it!” – Fergus turns to him fully as he motions to the video, - “It’s the voiceover! It’s just too fast! You can’t tell, of course, ‘cause you haven’t heard it, but I’ve heard it a million times on the final version – and it’s just too fast! It doesn’t match the camera work and the shot progression! When you see it like this, then….” – He hums and gestures with his hands, - “With this melody, it matches, like you can really get the feel for this place” – He pauses, blinks, then begins again, - “And really… you don’t really need a voiceover… I think this” – He motions at the screen, - “I think this shows you all that you need to know, I really think that you don’t need the words!”

He turns to Andy with that excitement splashed all over his face like glitter and he looks so radiant and handsome that his smile alone has Andy at a loss for words. But Fergus doesn’t say anything anymore either, and that’s quite alright because Andy’s not sure he’s in any condition to listen. So they just look at each other, the laptop forgotten on their laps, the screen having gone black, and Fergus places his hand gently on Andy’s. And Andy doesn’t know if it’s a question, a “thank you” or an “I love you” but whatever it is, he agrees and accepts and responds.

But not with words, because, as Fergus said, you really don’t need those.

He does it in a way that makes it mean that much more.

He does it silently.

*****


End file.
